


Cold Comfort Castle

by spycandy



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Cold Comfort Farm, Gen, but at Winterfell, with Asha Greyjoy as Flora Poste
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-18
Updated: 2014-05-18
Packaged: 2018-01-25 15:27:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1653491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spycandy/pseuds/spycandy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Asha is brought to Winterfell as hostage instead of Theon, and takes a very different approach.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold Comfort Castle

**Author's Note:**

> The age range of the Stark and Greyjoy children has been horribly compressed for the sake of making this work.
> 
> This might be quite a slow WIP, but it is planned out.

The education bestowed on Asha Greyjoy by her parents had been political, nautical and noble - none of which might have been considered to have prepared her well for life as a lowly hostage. But since her father’s rebellion had been a failure and the Iron Islands now owed untrustworthy allegiance to the North, such was to be her fate.

She was glad at least that being taken to the North necessitated one final sea voyage. During the months of planning and rebellion, she had been considered too young and too damn female to be taken out sailing at all, which was immensely frustrating, since it was the one thing she loved above all else. And now she was headed to a great castle many miles from the open sea and it might be years before she felt the salt winds in her hair again.

Which was why the grizzled sailor found her dangling from the rigging by her strong hands, bare feet swinging several feet above the warm boards of the deck.

“Miss, come down from there please miss. Captain won’t like it if you’re swept overboard.”

The sailors were uncertain what to call her, apparently. Lady Asha was incorrect now, they said, but they were still polite almost to the point of forelock-tugging. Had she been a boy, she would probably have just been ‘Greyjoy’. 

She dropped to the deck and went to sit amid the large coils of rope that were only needed for tying up in port. The sailor gave her a nod of approval for choosing a spot that would be both safe and out of the way of anyone with actual work to do.

She wondered what Lord Stark’s children would call her. There were five of them, apparently, plus a bastard. Thinking of them called to mind her own little brother, Theon. Lord Stark had almost taken him instead, and Asha dreaded to think how the youngster would have coped in such circumstances. She still wasn’t quite certain how she herself would cope, and she had a lot of faith in her own emotional resilience.

Well, there was no point moping about it. And perhaps with only a little effort and good sense on her part Winterfell could be made a lot less bleak and forbidding than the name suggested.

***

“Maester Luwin, is there a room suitable for the girl?

The journey from the coast had been long and cold with neither the landscape nor the company offering much in the way of pleasure. By the time one of the bannermen pointed a gloved hand at the lumpen shape of Winterfell on the horizon, it had been nearly dark and Asha nearly frozen solid.

“Aye, there’s space for her. The fireplace hasn’t been cleared, but there are blankets aplenty,” said the old man who had opened the door, squinting at her.

“Go on then girl,” said Lord Stark, giving her a nudge towards the indoors. It was where she longed to be, but her feet were so numb with cold, she could barely get them going. Once she shuffled over the threshold, she found it was barely warmer inside, but at least they were out of the wind.

“Will Lady Stark not greet her tonight?” asked Luwin.

“It’s late. Best let the girl sleep and she can deal with the whole family tomorrow.”

Asha was tired enough to think that was an extremely good plan. She had already come to appreciate Lord Stark’s gruff kindness towards her and towards his own people on the journey.

“Well now Balon Greyjoy’s child,” said Luwin. “Follow me.”

***

She awoke to a strange kind of silence, aware for the first time of the absence of the susurration of the ocean below her window. It was always there at home, except when replaced by the crash of a storm.

Sitting up in bed, loathe to expose her bare feet to the Winterfell chill, she considered the dingy bedroom by the cold grey sliver of light that eked its way between the dull, heavy curtains. Pyke could be grim, of course, she could hardly deny it. But at least at sea there were always white sails and an ever-changing sky.

Well, if she was to make the best of things here, she might as well start with her own quarters. She could start by getting rid of the collection of dusty clutter - pine cones, an ugly candlestick, a broken toy sword - that was piled rather than displayed on the room’s only shelf. She would soon have the place shipshape, just as she liked it.

There was a sound from just beyond the window, not unlike the scuffing of a boot against stone. From the brief, dark glimpse she’d got the night before she was certain she was several storeys up with no adjoining flat roofs. But she had the strongest feeling someone was right outside her window.

She launched herself with one fluid motion, leaping from under the bedcovers to fling open the curtains, then catching the arm of her tiny peeping Tom firmly in both hands before he could topple from the perilous height in shock.

Once she had hauled the small boy in through the window, she inspected him closely. He was very young, but undoubtedly a Stark.

“Don’t tell anyone. Oh please don’t. Mother gets cross about my climbing,” he pleaded. “But it was after bedtime when you arrived and we all so wanted to meet you.”

Asha Greyjoy,” she said, sticking out a hand for the youngster to shake.

“Bran. Bran Stark.”

“Well Bran. It’s interesting to meet you. But let me give you some advice - never take anyone by surprise while aloft, especially if you aren’t roped to the mast.”

The boy laughed.

**

It was good advice, of course, but it didn’t change the course of Bran’s fate. Not even good common sense could thwart the gods.


End file.
